


It's Beautiful Duplicity (Whenever Your Eyes Are On Me)

by Nightkeepyr



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Multi, Press and Tabloids, Sharing a Bed, Smoaking billionaires, Social Media, birthday fic, established toliver, flommy, olicity - Freeform, rating will change later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 05:22:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15236253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightkeepyr/pseuds/Nightkeepyr
Summary: The press have been exposing Oliver Queen's playboy indiscretions for years.The entire city knows him.Except they don't.It's all lies on lies to hide his most tightly guarded truth.He's in a relationship with his best friend. Has loved him forever.But someone he trusted is apparently talking and people on social media are like the goddamn FBI plus vultures all rolled into one, and he can't keep track of who knows what anymore.One of their closest friend's gets dragged into it all - not that she had much choice - and saves the day, and they have to pretend to be the 'it' couple at the city's biggest society event of the year - his parents' thirty-fifth wedding anniversary week long celebration. All while his actual boyfriend his watching from not quite the sidelines, with an agenda of his own.Soon it's all feeling a little too real between him and her. And the other him and her. On top of all the covert him and him.Shit just got a lot more complicated.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Weareallstoriesintheend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weareallstoriesintheend/gifts).



> Happy, happy birthday to you, Lyn!! I hope you have a fabulous day! Thank you for being you :) :)
> 
> I want to apologise to you for this in case a) it sucks, and b) because time got away from me and I haven't finished much of it yet, but I wanted to post some on your actual hatch day, so I hope that's okay!
> 
> All Tweets, Facebook posts, Instagram posts, private/direct messages etc in this are FAKE. They were made strictly for fic purposes.

 

 

**PROLOGUE**

 

**\-------- ><\--------**

 

 

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 ****TO BE CONTINUED...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have deliberately not specified which 'Canary' spilled he beans. At the moment it isn't integral to the story...if this even counts as a story? So, I'll leave it up the reader to decide :)


	2. They think they know...

****

 

**CHAPTER ONE They think they know...**

 

**\-------- ><\--------**

 

 

“You want me to  _ what? _ ”

 

Oliver Queen held back a wince as Felicity Smoak’s voice lowered to a whispered croak within the confines of his car. 

 

Fuck, it would’ve been better if she’d started yelling, or gone supersonic shrilly. Anger he could handle - he had plenty of experience with it through the years, from many a female. This though… this shit he couldn't get a read on, hiked up his guilt, and his anxiety over  _ everything _ . God, he needed her to be okay with this.

 

The air crackled with tension as she continued to sit there, staring at him, barely blinking as she tried to process the words that had come out of his mouth, her eyes impossibly large behind her glasses, and so blue, even in the dim light of the Jag he drove because it was expected … so stupidly pretty blue.

 

“You… cannot be serious… that’s insane… you’re - you… and…” She stuttered, “Why… why would you think… oh my god… holy shit, you  _ aren’t  _ kidding… I can't believe you did this.”

 

“I panicked okay, it just slipped out.” 

 

“It just slipped out?” She asked incredulously, her volume raising slightly to a level that made him feel a little less out of control. “It slipped out… when exactly did it slip out… how could you wait to tell me? You didn't think I should've have known before we’re about to walk through the freaking door… the ramp, whatever… maybe given me some warning…  _ any  _ warning…  _ no-one  _ is going to believe that you and I are a couple, that - ”

 

“People already think we are… were.” He interrupted, his nerves kicking higher, “You saw that shit.” 

 

The headlines on social media were why they were having this conversation in the first place. They were trending for fuck’s sake.

 

“You are not helping. We both know - ” She flung her arm up, almost hitting her hand on the dash. “ - those are ridiculous.”

 

“It won't be -  I'm sorry. I should've checked with you. I'm so sorry, it's just she invited Susan and more press assholes for some stupid ‘day in the life’ and… wait. Should I be offended right now? I can be a good boyfriend; I’m not a bad boyfriend.”

 

“I know that ‘cos  _ your _ boyfriend has heart eyes whenever he sees you,” She hissed as though she were afraid someone was listening in on them.

 

His heart squeezed at her ingrained protectiveness, the way her skin flushed, intensifying the scent of her perfume, and the mention of Tommy Merlyn. He felt his lips curling up the corners despite the situation, and Felicity huffed in exasperation.

 

“Which is so not the point right now. Oh, god, we're so screwed. Just thinking about him switches your dopey on.” She inhaled deeply, utterly clueless. “Why not fess up, they already know.”

 

“They think they know, they don't know they know.”

 

He knew he was reaching. But he had to. And he didn’t want to assume shit about her saying ‘we’.

 

“Jesus.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, the red contrasting with white so sharply it made him all too aware of the indentation she was making. He struggled not to focus on how much plumper her glossy flesh looked when she bit down on it. 

 

“We’re not ready. We said only when... we were both ready.” He cleared his throat.

 

He didn't know when Tommy would want to confirm the rumours about the two of them - were they even rumours at this point - but Oliver didn't care about waiting. 

 

He ran his palms over his scruff, leaned back against the headrest.

 

“I know what I’m asking you isn't fair.” He confessed warily. Christ, he knew just how unfair, since she didn't know the exact truth of why it had been her name he’d thrown out instinctively, why it was her he trusted. 

 

“Oliver - ” His name tore from her throat unsteadily. “How’s this going to work, exactly?” She licked her lips, her tongue running over those goddamn teeth marks pressed onto her skin.

 

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

 

“Are we in- in love… or just sleeping together. Oh god, which… either in front of your  _ mom _ . Mom’s know Oliver.” She chuckled without humour. It was an unsettling sound coming from her.

 

“Felicity -”

 

“And Tommy.” Her face paled, the flush seeping out of her cheeks alarmingly as she broke eye contact, “Tommy knows, right? You wouldn't blindside him with this, and he’ll be watching.” She continued to herself, her mind working overtime. “Watching us doing… whatever we’ll be doing. And I’ll have to- ”

 

“Look at me,” He cupped her cheek, biting on the inside of his own as she damn near leapt out of her seat. “Look at me, Felicity. That’s it. Breathe nice and slow for me.” He murmured, leaning in a little closer, trying like hell to ignore the way the calluses on his fingertips warmed against her skin, the way that heat spread through his knuckles, his palm. 

 

His fingers twitched against her nape and he pressed down slightly, inwardly cursing as the soft, silky strands of her ponytail trailed over the back of his hand.

 

She drew in another long, tremulous breath, lifted her gaze to meet his once again, and fuck, he could see the grey bursting from her pupils. He hardly ever allowed himself to be close enough to see it.

 

“Tommy knows, yeah.” He gritted out, almost painfully. “And he’s…” He couldn’t tell that Tommy was okay with it. She wouldn’t quite understand yet. “You know our situation… we do what we have to, he and I know what’s up okay. He’s not gonna lay down the law, or make a scene, or whatever. You don’t have to worry about that side of things.”

 

“Just everything else.” She replied so softly, he was sure he wasn’t meant to hear her.

 

“I have no right to beg you for this. God knows I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into out mess - It’s a lot to take on, and if you can’t or won’t do it, I’ll -” 

 

She shook her head infinitesimally, “I… just need to know how far we need to take take this in front of everyone else, how. I assume we’ll be with each other quite a lot, creating… intimacy. Spell it out for me so I can wrap my head around it all, and know what to expect here, what you need from me, please.”

 

“Okay.” He nodded, still holding her, still denying himself the urge to fully tangle his fingers in her hair.

 

“If you say yes, it would mean me touching you, but we don't have to… label anything, would you be okay with that?”

 

“I’d kinda have to be, wouldn't I...with the touching.”

 

“No, no only if you say it’s okay. You wanted to know what I need, well, I need to know, Felicity... in there, will you let me touch you... your hands… your arms… your shoulders… your back?” He checked, wanting her consent, wanting permission.

 

She let out a quick puff of air that cooled against his Adams apple, waiting quietly for him to carry on.

 

“Will you lean into me like you know my hands on you, like you want more, like for a second you forgot we weren’t alone and that there are eyes all over us?”

 

“Oh, god.”

 

“Will you let me put my mouth on you… on your cheeks, on your neck… so it looks like I’m breathing you in, getting a taste of your skin, right behind your ear, in the hollow of your throat?” He asked, his voice low and throaty. Jesus, what was he doing?

 

“What about you?” She squeaked, “What are your and Tommy’s, um, boundaries?”

 

He swallowed thickly, his pulse was racing so hard he swore she could feel it through his wrist. “Just put your hands on me, Felicity. Make it look good, make it look real when you’re touching me, when you’re looking at me and we’ll be… fine… we’ll all be fine.”

 

She tilted her head up slightly, but didn’t pull away as her brain sifted through the week’s expectations, no doubt. He watched various emotions play across her face, fascinated by them all, and it felt like he had held his breath the entire time it took for her to make a decision. 

 

She nodded twice as if to reassure herself, before speaking.

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. All - I’ll let you do all of, um, what you asked.”

 

“Felicity.”

 

“I’m sure, Oliver, alright. I’m sure.” 

 

“Th -”

 

“Don’t thank me… not yet, anyway. Not till we pull this off.”

 

“Okay… okay.” He sighed in relief, reluctantly letting her go when she squared her shoulders and turned to look back through the windshield at the  _ Queen’s Gambit _ , ready to sail some of his family’s guests down to St Barts for his parents’ anniversary.

 

He knew Tommy was already on board. So was the person who had fucked them over. He could feel the ever present anger rising through his veins, past the easing apprehension, at the betrayal.

 

He had no idea of how long he sat there, wondering  _ why _ , trying to playback every interaction he and Tommy had had with the fucking snitch, but he started slightly when Felicity reached over and silently covered his hand clenching on top of his thigh, entwining their fingers as though she’d done it a hundred times before, unknowingly bringing back that warmth he only felt with one other person.

  
  


They may have started putting out this fire, but Oliver had a feeling he was gonna burn anyway.

 

TO BE CONTINUED...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic's Gambit is modelled on the 'Al Said', a luxury yacht by owned by the Sultan Qaboos of Oman.

**Author's Note:**

> I have deliberately not specified which 'canary' spilled the beans. At the moment it isn't integral to the story... if this even counts as a story? So, I'll leave it up to the reader to decide :)
> 
> Thanks to anyone who is reading :)


End file.
